


when one door closes

by benzedrines



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Current timeline, F/M, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:26:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23680777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/benzedrines/pseuds/benzedrines
Summary: Miwa Kageyama meddles in your love life with the best of intentions.
Relationships: Kageyama Tobio/Reader
Comments: 9
Kudos: 152





	when one door closes

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you [Michelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hokshi) for beta reading for me! Chances are, if you're a fan of both Haikyuu and reader-inserts, then you've probably already read her [Haikyuu anthology](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7851505/chapters/17927281). On the off chance you haven't though, I highly recommend it! I often find myself rereading her various one shots, so I'd say they stand the test of time pretty well.
> 
> If you're here, I'm assuming you read the manga or don't care about spoilers -- I mean, just the mention of Miwa is a spoiler -- but mainly, this takes place post-timeskip and there's mild spoilers for Chapter 387. Other than that, I tried to avoid touching on plot-relevant manga details as much as possible because, apart from Chapter 387, I haven't actually read the manga yet haha. I'll read it eventually though... Got plenty of time nowadays, after all.

Your hair has been this length for a long time. Maybe for too long. 

“I’m thinking I want to go shorter,” you say as you sit yourself down on the styling chair, fingering the ends of your wet hair. 

“You want to cut your hair _shorter_?” Miwa asks from behind you, her voice and expression colored with disbelief. “Why would you want to do that all of a sudden?”

You shrug. “I just think it’s time for a change. That’s all.”

Miwa stares down your reflection in the mirror, and you calmly look back at her own reflection. Or, well, you try to anyway. Though you know Miwa to be an amiable person, you also know her face is capable of a rather frightening scowl.

“You were dumped, weren’t you?” Miwa concludes, ending the staring contest.

You’re not surprised she’s correctly guessed the reason behind your request. Considering you head home to Miyagi from Tokyo to see Miwa Kageyama for a trim every six weeks — more often than you see certain friends sometimes — you’ve spent a decent amount of time in her stylist’s chair. And ever since she first started cutting your hair, you’ve confided a lot to her. Nowadays, she’s more than just your hairstylist; she’s also your friend and someone that you see as an older sister figure.

Still, the wound from being “dumped” is fresh enough that any reminders of it sting.

“You don’t have to say it like _that_!” you protest with a whiny tone, feeling your face heat up from embarrassment. 

Miwa raises her eyebrows at you. “How else should I say it then?”

You open your mouth to respond and then immediately close it. How else could she have said it? You were broken up with? Tossed aside? Kicked to the curb? No, nope, and definitely not. There really are no good ways to express that you’re no longer in a relationship, huh?

“You could’ve asked if I was let go,” you sniff.

Miwa lets out a hearty laugh. “Let go? Your ex your employer too?” she rhetorically asks through a wide smile, the remnants of amusement still on her face. “So why did the doctor end things?”

“Lawyer,” you remind her. “He said I wasn’t committed to the relationship and never spent enough time with him.” You pause to roll your eyes. “I mean, for crying out loud, I made time for him after work — you know, when I’m tired and just want to go home after a long day of work — for mid-week dates and always spent the weekend at his place and always answered his calls and texts and always remembered important dates. What more did he want from me?”

“Maybe he wanted you to be a live-in girlfriend.”

“You know,” you say, straightening up at Miwa’s words, “he did say one time that, in the future, he’d make sure I was taken care of so I wouldn’t have to work so hard.

"I just hummed in response because this was late at night when we were in bed together and honestly, I didn’t want to think about the implication of marriage, but in hindsight, I should’ve known that we wouldn’t work out.”

“You didn’t want to marry him?”

“Definitely not if I have to be a stay-at-home wife! I mean, sure, it’s nice to be able to be with the one you love, but I don’t want my life to revolve around my significant other. I want to have my own life outside of them too,” you answer. “Ugh, he’d been so perfect on paper too. Respectable occupation, clean-cut, tall, dark, and handsome, well-built body…” 

You stop yourself before you gush about your ex’s lean muscles or about how amazing the sex had been too. Gushing about the former is one thing, but gushing about the latter isn’t really a detail that Miwa needs to be subjected to, no matter how close you are. 

“Anyway,” you continue, “it’s flattering, I guess, that he thought I was marriage material, but I can’t even imagine thinking about marriage at my age right now. Though I guess that’s what happens when you date someone older than you.”

“Right…I forget you’re Tobio’s age sometimes,” Miwa muses. “Well, the beauty of being as young as you are, [Name]-chan, is that, in the grand scheme of things, this is just a blip in your life. One day, when you’re older and married to someone who respects the fact that you are and _want_ to be a working woman, you’ll look back at this relationship and think ‘I dodged a bullet,’ and it’ll be as true then as it is now.” 

You can feel the hint of tears prickle at your eyes, touched by her words. “Thanks, Miwa-san,” you softly reply. 

Miwa shrugs. “I’m only speaking the truth, but you’re welcome,” she says, offering you a smile. “And even though the customer is always right, as both your hairstylist and your friend, I cannot, in good conscience, let you cut your hair shorter because I know you’ll regret it after a few days. 

You take a deep breath in and then let it out, feeling better able to return her smile afterwards. “You’re right, just a trim as usual then,” you concede. “Anyway, enough about my failed love life. Speaking of your brother, how’s Tobio-kun doing?”

Though you’ve never actually met Tobio, with all the stories Miwa’s shared with you about her baby brother over the years, you can’t help but feel like the boy is your baby brother too, and always make sure to ask about him every time you see her.

As she gets to work on your hair, Miwa tells you how, with the new volleyball season starting soon, that Tobio’s been practicing hard — both with his team and by himself. Since his team’s been the league champions for the past three years, there’s an innate pressure to keep that up as they go into the new season. 

“I keep telling him that he needs to take time for himself too — ‘personal maintenance’ as our grandfather had called it — and he’ll agree with me, but I can tell he’s not actually listening to me,” Miwa says in exasperation. “I’ll take him hanging out with his teammates outside of practice or his friends from high school as a win, but I’d like to see him at least _think_ about dating. I don’t want him to miss out on someone just because of his dedication to volleyball.”

You feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. With your head tilted downwards as Miwa trims the back section of your hair, you decide now’s a good time as any to check your phone. 

“I’m sure he’ll think about dating when he’s ready to,” you say while you open up a work-related email. “I wouldn’t stress out over it.”

“I’m his older sister. I _have_ to stress out over it.”

“And I’m sure he loves you for it,” you reply as you take in all the text in this email. What could be so important on a weekend? “But seriously, don’t stress. He’s a catch. He’ll meet someone eventually.”

Miwa’s quiet for a moment, and then you hear her speak again. “Why don’t you date Tobio? If you did, I would definitely approve.”

“Huh?” you ask, pocketing your phone again. That email definitely could’ve waited until Monday. “Sorry, I didn’t catch all of that. What would you approve of?”

“Never mind. Anyway, Tobio also told me about this restaurant in Tokyo he heard about that he thinks I’d like. Why don’t we check it out together?”

“You’d come all the way from Miyagi to Tokyo just for a meal? Must be some restaurant.”

Miwa laughs. “So Tobio says,” she replies. “Either way, you in? We can celebrate you avoiding becoming a live-in girlfriend—”

“Ha ha, very funny,” you interrupt in a deadpan manner.

Miwa’s reflection looks back at you with a cheeky smile on her face. “Gives me an excuse to visit Tobio too,” she continues, as if you hadn’t even spoken.

You shake your head in mock exasperation. “Sure, I’ll come with.”

“Great!” Miwa exclaims, seeming overly excited about you two getting dinner together at this restaurant. Maybe the food’s just that good. “I’ll text you the details later.”

* * *

Miwa makes dinner reservations for a Saturday evening, telling you to be sure to dress “smart casual.”

As expected, the restaurant is busy when you arrive, and you have to wait to even speak to a host. You use your time waiting in line to look around, taking in your surroundings. 

Right off the bat, you notice that, at the very least, everyone else is similarly dressed as you. Prior to arriving, you worried that you might be overdressed by wearing an outfit you’d normally save for a date.

Most of the tables seat two, and you assume they’re all couples. Though there’s tables that seat multiple people — presumably groups of friends — you can see why this would be a popular date spot. The dark color scheme, dimmed lighting, and candlelit tables certainly make for a romantic atmosphere…

The people ahead of you walk away as they’re shown the way to their table, and you step forward. “Hi. Table for two under Kageyama,” you say, per Miwa’s instructions. 

Even with the wait, you’re still early and wonder if she’s already here. You wouldn’t be surprised if she isn’t — knowing that she’d want to make the most of the time she has with her brother.

The host checks the seating chart on the monitor. “Ah, yes,” he replies, seeming to have found your table. “Your party’s expecting you. Right this way, miss.”

You follow the host as he leads you to your table, and you nearly walk right into him when he comes to a stop. “Here you are, miss,” he says, using his whole arm to gesture to your table. “Enjoy your evening.”

“Thank you,” you say in a daze as you sit down, barely even noticing the host take his leave. 

Your eyes are too busy being fixed on who’s already sitting there. Unless Miwa suddenly grew taller and built a ton more muscle since the last time you saw her, the person across from you is _definitely_ not her.

You’ve seen his face before in pictures though, and his features resemble those of Miwa’s — it’s not difficult for you to conclude that your company is Tobio Kageyama. 

Compared to seeing him in pictures on the screen of Miwa’s phone, seeing him in person with your own eyes is _vastly_ different. You knew that he was tall; and you knew that he was well-built, but to see so for yourself in person… _wow_. 

From the pictures Miwa’s showed you, he’d only ever been dressed in his volleyball uniform or activewear, but tonight, he’s appropriately dressed for the occasion. 

His dress shirt fits him like a glove — his chest filling out the fabric in such a flattering way that you can’t help but want to see what’s underneath without any obstructions. With the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows, they draw your eyes to his forearms, and you enjoy the way the cuffs hug the muscle there.

Even the color of his shirt is perfect. The dark blue of it brings out the blue in his own eyes, and you’re struck by the beautiful hue. Looking at them, you understand now why people are so fascinated by blue eyes — you’re convinced you’ll never see a pair prettier than his.

You wonder how you ever thought of him as a boy, because the person in front of you is most assuredly a _man_. There’s nothing “baby” about his appearance whatsoever. You’re vaguely aware that you’ve been staring for way too long, but you can’t help it! No matter where you look, everything about him is a visual feast, and you can actually feel your mouth watering.

“S-sorry,” you eventually stutter out. Since when did you stutter? “I’m just…shocked. I was expecting Miwa-san.”

“It’s okay. I was too,” he replies. After a beat, his lips curve upward ever so slightly. 

You return his smile. Though it was small, you appreciate the gesture. 

Before either of you can say anything else, his phone chimes, and he moves to retrieve it. Yours chimes immediately after, prompting you to follow suit.

“‘Can’t make dinner, so I sent a friend in my place,’” he says, making you look up and see that he’s reading aloud from his phone. “‘Treat her well.’”

Even without preamble, it’s obvious that he was reading a text from Miwa. When you look at your own phone screen, you see a text from her as well. It’s comparatively shorter, so your eyes don’t take long to read the message — _“Enjoy your date.”_

There’s no way you’re going to read that verbatim to him though, so all you say is, “‘Enjoy.’” 

He doesn’t look like he’s going to say anything, and you don’t really know what to say either — there’s no way you’re going to tell him that his sister set the two of you up on this “date.” (At least now you know why she’d been so excited about the idea of dinner though.)

“Well, I’m sure you have other ways you’d rather spend your Saturday night, Kageyama-san,” you say, deciding that you probably shouldn’t call him “Tobio-kun” to his face. “So, um, I’m sure if we explain to the staff that there was uh, a misunderstanding, we should be able to just leave since we haven’t even ordered anything?”

“We’re already here. We might as well stay.”

“Are you sure?” 

You assess Kageyama’s expression. He doesn’t seem to be upset, but he doesn’t seem particularly enthused either. 

“You don’t have to worry about hurting my feelings or anything,” you say, assuring Kageyama. You wouldn’t be surprised if he felt obligated to stay because of Miwa. “I promise I won’t say a single bad word about you to Miwa-san. I won’t be offended if you want to leave either!” 

In the back of your mind, you know that you’re starting to ramble, and that now would probably be a good time as any to stop talking, but for some reason, your mouth won’t stay closed. Words keep coming out, and you can’t seem to stop them. What is _wrong_ with you?

“I definitely understand if you want to leave. If I were in your shoes, I’d want to leave too.” You laugh, but even to your ears, the action sounds stilted. “I mean, who’d want to have dinner with their sister’s friend, right? What an awful way to spend—”

“I don’t mind, [Name]-san!” Kageyama exclaims, interrupting you before you can ramble any longer.

You blink at him. The loud volume of his voice stuns you into silence, and what’s more, he apparently knows who you are. “You know my name?”

“Of course I do,” Kageyama answers, his voice returning to an appropriate decibel. “I’ve heard a lot about you from Miwa.”

“Oh.” It never occurred to you that while Miwa was telling you about Kageyama, that she was also telling him about you. “Good things, I hope.”

“Yes, good things,” Kageyama confirms with a nod of his head. The once-over he gives you afterwards isn’t subtle, nor is the blush that blooms on his cheeks. “You’re as pretty as she said you are.”

“O-oh.” You can feel your own face heat up from the unexpected compliment. _What else was she telling him about you?_ “Thank you. That’s very kind of you to say.”

“Just speaking the truth,” Kageyama mumbles, pointedly not looking at you. When he meets your eyes and speaks again, his voice rises in volume again. “Anyway, as long as you’re okay with staying for dinner, I’m okay with it too.”

You smile. “Yeah, I’d love to have dinner together.”

Kageyama returns your smile with another small one, and you idly wonder what he’d look like with a full-on smile as you finally pick up the menu in front of you. Maybe you’ll find out by the end of dinner. You’d like to find out, anyway. You’re sure it’s quite the sight.

Neither of you speak as the two of you peruse the menu, but unlike before, the silence that hangs in the air between you two is more comfortable and less awkward now.

As the two of you decide on what to order, your server comes by to take your drink orders — Kageyama asks for water, and you follow suit. When they return with your waters, they also take your food orders, and afterwards, you two return the menus to them.

Without a way to keep yourself occupied, you can feel a nervous energy thrum through you. 

Why are you so nervous? This isn’t actually a date, and you’ve been far less nervous on actual dates. You know enough about Kageyama to make conversation and show how smart and witty and confident you are, don’t you? Yet, as you fidget with the straw in your water — thinking that maybe you should’ve ordered a cocktail instead — your mind simultaneously grasps at straws.

“So, uh, Miwa cuts your hair?” Kageyama asks.

You snap your head up, your eyes widened in surprise because you hadn’t expected him to speak first. He looks back at you with an expectant expression and you realize that you haven’t answered him yet. 

Internally, you sigh. Whatever impression you’re giving off on this not-date, it’s certainly not smart or witty. (The jury’s still out on confident.)

“Yeah! When I moved to Tokyo, I was getting my hair cut at a salon in the city,” you explain, “but it was pretty expensive, and I didn’t make that much from my part-time job at the time.

“That’s why I decided to look for a salon back home that I could get my hair cut at instead — so I could save some money. I ended up finding the salon that Miwa-san works at online and I’ve been getting my hair cut by her ever since.”

“You’re originally from Miyagi too, right?”

“Mmhmm. Born and raised until I moved for university, and I’ve been living here ever since.”

“What high school did you go to?”

“Niiyama Girls’ High School.”

Kageyama raises his eyebrows at that, and your lips curve in a knowing smile. “Most people knew us for our volleyball club, but I didn’t participate in sports in high school myself.” You pause to laugh before you admit, “Pretty sure my parents mainly sent me there so I wouldn’t be surrounded by boys.”

The confession gets a chuckle out of Kageyama, which makes your smile widen. Progress.

“What about you though? I mean, Karasuno’s made it to nationals too, right? And you actually played on the team there. That’s a lot more interesting if you ask me.”

“Thank you,” Kageyama says, taking a sip of his water afterwards. “I wouldn’t have gotten there without my teammates.”

“What made you interested in volleyball in the first place, anyway?” you ask, careful not to place your elbows on the table as you lean forward. “Miwa-san told me that your grandfather was a volleyball coach and that you’ve been holding a volleyball ever since you were a baby, but what is it that you like so much to end up making a career out of volleyball?”

As far as first impressions go, what you immediately noticed about Kageyama is that he’s not someone who often emotes. Most people might think him intimidating for it — especially when you factor in the natural downward set of his eyebrows and lips — but you don’t mind; it just means that you can count on the moments he _does_ emote to be genuine.

And you’re proven absolutely right as you listen to him answer your question. 

To say that he lights up would be a disservice to what makes Kageyama, Kageyama. He doesn’t light up and suddenly seem like a whole new person, but there’s a fire in his eyes and an intensity to his voice that hadn’t been there before when the two of you were making small talk.

You can’t stop yourself from smiling as he recalls his time as a child spent practicing with his grandfather and sister, telling you about how he’s always liked being on the court — how the color and smell of a gym can instantly make him feel right at home, and how he never wants a game to end so he can keep playing. He tells you about how he continuously strives to be better, not necessarily to be the best, but so that he can play against players who are even better than him; and it’s not hard to feel admiration for him. There’s not a doubt in your mind that volleyball’s his passion and that playing it for a living is what he’s truly meant to be doing. 

The two of you are both so absorbed in your own bubble that you two had scarcely noticed when your food had been served, let alone even actually touched it, and only realize when your server stops by to ask how your food is.

After telling your server that the food is delicious — an obvious lie to all parties — Kageyama apologizes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bore you by going on and on.”

“No, no,” you quickly deny with a frantic wave of your hands. “You didn’t bore me at all! Quite the opposite really. I think I could listen to you talk about volleyball all day.”

The words slip out of your mouth without you properly thinking them over, and a beat passes after you speak them. Kageyama’s cheeks start to tint red, and you can feel your face getting warmer too.

Kageyama coughs, and then says, “Thank you.” He takes another sip of his water, but his blush has yet to fade away. “Enough about me for now though. Miwa mentioned that you were offered a job at your dream company straight out of university, right? That’s really impressive.”

Compared to Kageyama, an Olympian at 19, you can’t say that you agree, but you suppose the fact that he’d say so anyway is flattering in and of itself.

As you answer Kageyama’s question — telling him about what drew you to your current company, the steps you took in university to be able to work there, and what you hope to achieve as an employee — you carefully watch for his reaction. Even though this isn’t a date, since leaving university and becoming a career woman, you’ve learned that there’s a fine line between what is and isn’t considered “appropriate” for the amount in which you talk to men about your successes and aspirations. 

Say too little, and you’re seen as a laugh — as if you’re somehow lesser for not having as much under your belt or as big of dreams. Say too much, and you’re seen as a threat — as if your achievements and goals somehow hinder or prevent someone else from obtaining their own. 

You wait for Kageyama’s eyes to glaze over, or for him to interrupt you at any moment because you’ve gone on long enough. Surely, none of what you have to say could be interesting in comparison to him, right?

Neither action happens though. In fact, Kageyama’s eyes stay fixed on you the entire time — clear and focused — and not once does he interject, only doing so to ask follow-up questions when you’ve finished voicing a thought.

“Thanks for listening to all that,” you say when you’ve finished saying your piece.

Kageyama blinks at you. “You’re welcome,” he replies, after a beat. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to know though.”

“Right,” you agree with a smile, wishing that more guys were like Kageyama.

The conversation continues even once the two of you start eating from your plates — delving into topics like what you two like to do in your free time, or questions as simple as each other’s favorite color.

Kageyama’s not someone that you’d describe as loquacious by any means. Still, he doesn’t let you do all the talking. His questions and answers don’t always come out as naturally as they could — sometimes his voice gets louder than is appropriate, or his thoughts could’ve been worded better — but you appreciate that he makes the effort.

In fact, you even _like_ that he doesn’t speak for the sake of speaking — it makes him a great listener. You never feel like you don’t have his undivided attention when you tell him something, even if it’s as inconsequential as your current concerns. 

At the beginning of the night, you weren’t sure how you were going to make it through dinner with someone who you’d never even met before. Now though, as the two of you talk, you hardly even notice your plate becoming more and more devoid of food, much less actually taste it. You only register just how much time has passed when your server stops by to ask if the two of you want to see the dessert menu.

You two blink at them, and then turn to blink at each other.

“Uh,” Kageyama starts, drawing the word out. “No, we’re okay.” When you don’t disagree, he continues. “Thank you. Can we just get the check, please?”

“Certainly. Let me just get your plates out of the way for you and I’ll be right back with the check.”

Your server’s reappearance seems to have burst the bubble that the two of you were in, and instead of picking up where your conversation had left off, there’s only silence. It’s not awkward, but it’s not as comfortable as it could be either. 

Already, the night is almost over. What now?

True to their word though, your server promptly returns with the check, setting it down by Kageyama.

While you retrieve your wallet from your purse, you hear Kageyama say, “Don’t worry about it.” You look back up to see him set his card in the check presenter.

Still, you pull your own card from your wallet. “Thank you, but that’s not fair for you to have to pay for me. I’m more than happy to pay for my half of dinner,” you reply, extending your card towards him to take.

Kageyama pushes your card back towards you. “I know I don’t have to, but I want to.”

A beat passes where the two of you just look at each other. 

“Thank you, Kageyama-san. I really appreciate it,” you acquiesce, smiling afterwards. To argue any further would be rude, so you retract your hand. “The least I can do is make it up to you somehow though.”

There’s a pregnant pause -- and you’re wondering if maybe you should make a suggestion as to how you can make it up to him -- but then Kageyama speaks again.

“Well, uh, you don’t have to,” he starts, his eyes suddenly struggling to maintain contact with yours, “but if you want to, maybe you can make it up to me by going on a proper date with me?”

Kageyama’s not even looking at you anymore — his gaze firmly fixed on the white tablecloth of your table — and his face is redder than you’ve seen it this entire evening. He…wants to go on a date with you?

As taken aback as you are by his unexpected words though, there’s only one answer to his question. 

“Who says we can’t consider tonight a date?” you finally say. “It’s still early, so why don’t we go somewhere else after this? I know this good frozen yogurt place nearby.”

Kageyama finally looks back up at you. He blinks at you a few times, as if your words are still sinking in. 

“Okay, yeah. Let’s go.” 

His lips curve in what you think is going to be another one of his small smiles. They keep stretching upwards though, only stopping when they can’t possibly go any higher. That’s when you realize that this is it; this is a full-on smile of his. 

You were right — Kageyama’s smile is quite the sight. There’s no teeth showing, and the left side curves higher than the right, but you find it beautiful all the same.

You hope you’ll continue to see more of it.

**Author's Note:**

> You can also find me on [Tumblr](https://tonystonem.tumblr.com/). :)
> 
> In the meantime, I'll be playing Animal Crossing: New Horizons. Anyone else playing while cooped up inside?


End file.
